2 THE STORY OF A BIRD LOVER 



set little bird, with an abbreviated tail ; its colors 

 are charming; blacks and browns and chestnuts 

 are barred in a very effective manner ; otherwise 

 there is nothing particularly remarkable or charac- 

 teristic in its appearance or manner. During the 

 migrations the notes are insignificant, but while 

 mating and nesting the male birds sing constantly,- 

 rivalling many songsters more famous. 



Brooklyn was little more than a village in 1852, 

 the year when I was born, and all the country back 

 of the City Hall was open, fields and farms; the 

 Heights south of Wall Street ferry sloped down 

 in a green bank to New York Bay, and Bedford 

 and Coney Island were remote points where we 

 went for excursions to the country. It was a 

 village with a volunteer fire department, and no 

 general water or sewer system. There was a 

 public pump in the street nearly opposite where 

 we lived, to which all the neighbors went for 

 water, — a centre of gossip and news. 



I said that the winter wren was the first bird 

 that definitely impressed me; but long before that 

 I have a distinct recollection of a lively interest in 

 animals. One day (I could not have been more 

 than four years old, for my father died when I was 

 not quite five) I was called into a bedroom up- 

 stairs, where I found my father and mother. 

 My father had taken the corner of the rug which 

 covered the floor and had rolled it up so that one 



